In a rare display of candor, Mbella Moki, a prominent figure within the Cameroonian political system, delivered a fiery tirade against cabinet members, almost breaking into tears as he passionately decried the systemic neglect that plagues the country. His impassioned speech, which enumerated a litany of failed promises—including the long-overdue bitumen plant, the Victoria Seaport, the Tiko Airport, and other essential infrastructure—was a moment of truth that many did not see coming from someone of his political leaning. For once, a voice within the corridors of power in Yaoundé echoed the frustrations of millions. Moki’s critique was poignant, timely, and, in its own way, courageous.
Yet, this moment of boldness does not absolve Mbella Moki or others like him from the broader indictment of complicity in the oppression of Ambazonia where he hails from. His lamentations, though notable, are not enough to erase decades of his active participation in a system designed to exploit, suppress, and underdevelop the Southern Cameroons. If anything, they highlight the profound contradictions of those who have thrived within this system while occasionally shedding crocodile tears over its dysfunction.
For Ambazonians, Moki’s grievances are far from new. They are echoes of the same unfulfilled promises that have defined the relationship between Southern Cameroons and La République du Cameroun for over six decades. These promises—to build critical infrastructure, to develop the region, and to provide basic amenities—have been nothing more than a cynical ploy to pacify a population while entrenching a system of exploitation. Moki’s lamentations about the Victoria Seaport and Tiko Airport, for instance, mirror those of venerable Southern Cameroons leaders like E.M.L. Endeley, Albert Mukong, and Mola Litumbe. Their voices, like his, decried the same neglect, the same broken promises, and the same betrayal. Yet, decades later, the situation remains unchanged.
The question that arises, therefore, is why individuals like Mbella Moki believe their impassioned critiques will make any difference. Why do they think that lamenting within the same system that perpetuates this oppression will yield results? History has shown us that it will not. Joseph Wirba, another bold voice who dared to speak truth to power within the Cameroonian parliament, serves as a cautionary tale. His impassioned speeches earned him exile and marginalization, not change. If Wirba, who spoke with unmatched conviction, could not move the needle, what makes Moki think his tears will? The answer lies not in their words but in their actions—or lack thereof.
The reality is that individuals like Mbella Moki are products and beneficiaries of the very system they criticize. Their loyalty to Yaoundé, despite its glaring failures, stems from a combination of greed and fear. They are content with the crumbs that fall from the table of power, unwilling to risk their positions or privileges for the greater good of their people. This complicity is what keeps Ambazonia in bondage. By participating in the charade of governance under La République, they lend legitimacy to a system that has no intention of changing.
If Mbella Moki and others truly cared about the plight of their people, they would go beyond lamentations. They would stage a mass walkout, tender their resignations, and return to their roots to join the struggle for an independent Ambazonia. Such an act of defiance would send a powerful message to both the regime in Yaoundé and the international community that the Southern Cameroons will no longer tolerate its subjugation. Instead, they cling to the illusion that change can come from within, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Consider the promises that Mbella Moki highlighted in his tirade. The bitumen roads, the Victoria Seaport, the Tiko Airport, and add the Bamenda Ring Road—these are not new aspirations. They are relics of a colonial-era strategy to placate Southern Cameroons while stripping it of its resources. The neglect of these projects is not accidental; it is a deliberate policy of underdevelopment designed to weaken the region and keep it dependent. Buea remains disconnected from its divisions, and Bamenda suffers the same fate. This is not incompetence; it is annexationist policy in action.
As a teenager, I remember hearing the same laments from the great Southern Cameroons nationalists. E.M.L. Endeley’s cries over the Victoria Seaport were as heartfelt as they were futile. Albert Mukong’s fiery denunciations, Mola Litumbe’s legal arguments, and Henry Fossung’s political activism all underscored the same point: The Southern Cameroons was being systematically stripped of its dignity and future. Yet, despite their efforts, the system remained impervious to change. What makes Mbella Moki think his voice will succeed where theirs did not?
The only antidote to this cycle of neglect and lamentation is independence. An independent Ambazonia would have the power and agency to chart its own course, to build its own roads, ports, and airports, and to develop its own economy. It would no longer have to beg for crumbs from Yaoundé’s table. But for this vision to become a reality, Ambazonians must reject the false promises of integration and stand firm in their demand for self-determination.
Mbella Moki’s tirade, while commendable, is ultimately hollow without action. It is not enough to criticize the system; one must also reject it. If Moki were truly committed to the well-being of his people, he would abandon his position within La République’s political machinery and join the struggle for freedom. Until he does, his words will remain just that—words.
For those of us who have witnessed decades of unfulfilled promises, the time for lamentation has long passed. We must applaud when someone like Mbella Moki speaks out, but we must also hold them accountable for their role in perpetuating the status quo. Words alone will not bring change; only action will. And the most powerful action that Mbella Moki and his peers can take is to walk away from a system that has brought nothing but suffering to the Southern Cameroons.
In the end, the fight for Ambazonia’s independence is not just about breaking free from La République; it is also about breaking free from the mindset that change can come from within. It cannot. The system is designed to sustain itself at the expense of the Southern Cameroons. Those who believe otherwise are either deluded or complicit. Mbella Moki’s tears may have been genuine, but they are not enough. The only path to justice, dignity, and development for Ambazonia lies in independence. Anything less is a betrayal of our history and our future.
